Method of Progress
by IntelligentFish
Summary: I asked my friend to give me a starter sentence, and he said, ""Ouch!" Said the panda." This turned into a sticky icky Sonic story. Robotnik is a seriously sick dude. Review it, comment on it, love it. You can't marry it.


"Ouch!" said the Panda, wriggling his nose in his sleepy stupor. It was probably close to lunch time, his rabbit friend Steve was always prodding him when his noon nap cut into their foraging time. He smacked his lips, his mind bordering dream and reality, not bothering to open his eyes as he rolled onto his side. He could see the poignant reds and greens of their favorite cherry tree, the luscious berry bushes. Pleasant images to keep him company while he napped for a little longer.

"Ouch!" another silent prod to the leg, then back to the mouthwatering scents and tastes of cherries and berries and lemons his brain was conjuring up into a thick hunger. Yet he felt surprisingly full. Perhaps heavy was the appropriate word. Yet the only smell that seemed to stick was a sweet lemony scent. They were his favorite.

But it was different this time. The scent of lemon was masking another, an artificial, antiseptic smell. It didn't fit. The babbling of the distant river had failed to lull him back to sleep for the first time, or rather, its absence. The air was too still, no gentle noon breeze kissed his face. It all just hung in place, with that awful fake scent. Warm, muggy, sticky.

He strained to hear more, but his sleepy state was bearing a heavy weight on his mind, almost as much as his eyelids. What he managed to focus on was unsettling. The sound of drills whizzing and what could be metal pounding against metal, echoes softened by the grogginess of his ears, or perhaps softened, as if the sounds were in some other room, separated by a wall. Walls! He was in a place with walls!

He fought the sedated feeling pinning his eyelids shut and stretched them as wide as they'd allow, greeting his fuzzy dark surroundings with confusion. Then, as the shapes actualized, fear. Everything around him shined and gleamed from a tiny light down a hall, the metal surfaces foreign to anything he'd ever known. Strange tools were littered all over the counter across from him, shiny droplets of fresh crimson dripping from ends and pooling. Then the walls.

_Oh my God… The walls…_

Countless bodies of woodland creatures hung there lined up in rows, row on top of row, layering the entire wall. Some were torn open, some had body parts missing. Sparrows, badgers, ferrets, squirrels, cats, dogs, all of them. The Panda's heart was beating out of his chest. His whole village, everyone he'd grown up with, had ever known, pinned to a wall. None moved. No one made a sound. Nothing but drills and machines somewhere deep within the building.

There among them was Steve, ribcage splayed open, revealing an empty chest cavity. He was pale and clean as though someone had drained him, washed him and dried him out. His throat had been opened as well, the skin pinned to the wall, displaying the viscous pink. He hung there, goofy grin horrifically immortalized, his sagging head facing the Panda, empty sunken eye sockets hidden in shadow, mouth open. Someone had scooped out all his insides. It was all he could do to look away from the wall, which brought him to his more immediate surroundings, slim iron bars, caging him into a small box. This was immediately forgotten once his eyes settled on the bandaged stump that used to be his leg. His scream was one of shock, not pain, echoing down the lifeless halls of metal construction.

"Ah, good. You're awake."

The voice boomed through the hollow space and into the terrified Panda's ears, then the host came into view. He was large and round as they came, eyes hid behind a pair of dark spectacles, mouth behind a thick pointed mustache. The strange metal parts he cradled rubbed the thick red material of his jumpsuit. He unloaded it onto the counter next to Steve. The Panda was frozen in place, watching the man's back as he busied himself at the counter. After many mechanical sounds of cutting, banging and metal on metal, the man turned to face his caged living specimen, stroking his moustache, any and all expression hidden. For a moment, neither said a word. The strange man seemed content to watch the Panda, like he was waiting for something.

"W…why are you doing this?" The Panda's voice was nothing more than a whisper. It was suddenly apparent how weak he felt, had become since he'd woken up.

"Why?" The man turned his back to the Panda, stroking his moustache, examining the bodies on the wall.

"It is my method of progress. You should rejoice, I have given you a purpose."

It was surreal to watch, the man picked up a net of silvery wire snakes and began patching it into the apparatus now inside Steve's stomach. Then, with the push of a button, the mechanical construct glowed a dim red, making Steve's empty sockets glow an ominous red, like a corpse jack-o-lantern. Another push of the button and a voice, robotic and level poured through Steve's still mouth.

"Organic synch initialized."

It was beyond horror, it crushed the Panda. The heaviness in his chest, so foreign and prominent, he could not help but look down. Another scream, weaker this time. Pale, milky ribs, bent open like cabinet doors, exposing all his mushy insides. But they were gone, he saw the same metallic shine, the glowing red.

"I'm going to die…" The Panda muttered, his voice so soft. It was hopeless.

"No," The man sounded hurt as he turned to him, reaching his hand through the bars, touching the Panda behind his ears, the spot so intimate, the Panda couldn't help but feel a little comfort. He didn't even feel the needle slide into the back of his neck.

"You're going to live forever."


End file.
